Frosty
by Sherlockian87
Summary: A chilly problem with Molly's flat.


**This is just a silly bit of fluffiness that my brain came up with because I was bored at work, and it's not cold here and I wish it was!**

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Frosty

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"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Molly shrieked as she gave her radiator a solid kick with her booted foot. "Blast you, you useless thing!" A shudder ran through her body as she wrapped her arms about her waist, trying to hug in the heat. "Damnit," she muttered, "What am I going to do?"

Her flat felt like an ice cube, thanks to her radiator deciding to die out on possibly the coldest day of the year! Poor Toby was burrowed beneath her blanket and sheet, and she could have sworn she saw ice crystals beginning to form. To make the situation even better, it was beginning to snow.

"Happy Christmas Molly," she grumbled bitterly to herself.

The sound of a key in her door caused her to spin about, and when it opened it revealed the tall, curly-haired Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes.

"Molly, I know you have an inane love for this season, but deciding to turn your flat into an igloo is not entirely wise," he told her as he stepped inside.

In spite of the fact that she was starting to shiver uncontrollably she managed to fix upon him a firm glare. "I didn't do this on purpose you git! It's all thanks to my dick of a landlord. He said he was going to have all of the pipes replaced before the winter, and he didn't. And now my radiator has gone and died." She pulled her mittens out of her coat pocket and tugged them on, moving to walk towards her bedroom.

"You're not planning to stay here are you?" Sherlock asked.

She turned and looked at him. "I don't know. Meena is away visiting family so I can't kip on her sofa, I don't know if any hotel will take me with Toby and I can't leave him here, he'll freeze! I-I really don't have anywhere I can go." She started to continue to her bedroom but stopped when Sherlock spoke.

"Of course there is. Come to Baker Street."

She stared at him owlishly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I wouldn't be offering if I weren't."

She bit down on her bottom lip. "It might be until the New Year, my landlord is away."

Sherlock shrugged. "That's fine. I have the room, Molly. Now are you going to accept or not?"

She hesitated.

"Stop thinking about it and just say yes."

Molly raised her eyebrow and he knew that he had said something A Bit Not Good.

"Please?"

She giggled. "Ok, fine. I'll stay at Baker Street."

He smiled. "Excellent. Pack what you need, and whatever you may think wouldn't be good to leave behind to freeze."

She rolled her eyes as she walked into her bedroom, he following close behind. "How about you try and wrangle Toby into his cat carrier?" she asked him.

Sherlock glared at the cat-sized lump beneath her covers before going to her closet and taking out the carrier. Molly packed as quickly as she could, her movements keeping her warm in spite of the bitter cold air surrounding her.

"You really should consider moving to a better flat," Sherlock chided. "Your landlord clearly doesn't care about his tenants, and the walls here are practically paper thin."

She let out a rather undignified snort, remembering when one of the times he had been using her flat as a bolt-hole, and her next door neighbors had decided to have what only could be described as monkey sex. Sherlock made no comment, but his ears were tinged pink.

"Ready?" he asked her as she zipped up her suitcase.

"Yes. And well done you! You got Toby into his carrier; I always have the hardest time doing that."

Sherlock puffed out his chest. "It's because Toby likes me!"

"Are you trying to tell me my cat doesn't like me? I'm the one who feeds him!"

He smiled. "Yes, but I'm the one who gives him treats."

She shook her head and took the carrier from him. "You're incorrigible."

He shrugged. "Perhaps so. But you wouldn't want me any other way."

She sighed, shaking her head. "No, I wouldn't. Because then you wouldn't be Sherlock."

"Come along; let's get out of this ice box." He grabbed the handle of her suitcase and rolled it out of her room, Molly following him.

Snowflakes were falling thick and fast as they made their way outside. She began to shiver again as Sherlock hailed a cab. She slipped inside with Toby as Sherlock put the suitcase into the boot.

"221B Baker Street," he told the driver as he got into the car. "Molly come here, I know you're cold." He held his arms out to her.

She only hesitated for a moment before curling up against him. He locked his arms around her, rubbing his hands up and down her back, as she continued to shiver.

"Th-thank you Sherlock. This is very sweet of you."

He huffed slightly. "I just don't want you to catch pneumonia."

She shook her head, laughing softly. "I don't mean just this ... I mean everything, letting me stay at your flat and all."

"Oh. Well consider it payment for all the times you've let me kip at yours."

They arrived at Baker Street and Molly rushed inside, not wanting to stay out in the cold for any amount of time that was longer than necessary. Sherlock was not too far behind her as she took the stairs and entered his flat. There was a tray of tea and sandwiches on his coffee table.

"Sherlock, please don't tell me that you left the flat with a fire going?" Molly asked as she put down the carrier and let out Toby. He rushed from the carrier, straight to the spot in front of the fire. "Poor thing," she muttered.

"No. Of course I didn't, Molly!" Sherlock answered as put down her suitcase and shrugged off his coat. "I texted Mrs. Hudson and asked her to start one so that it would be going by the time we arrived."

"Oh!"

"Go and warm up, I'll bring this inside," he said as he picked up her suitcase once more.

Molly looked at him. "Inside where?"

"My bedroom," he said in a tone as if to say 'where else?'

She blinked at him. "I thought I would be staying in John's old room."

Sherlock let out a snort. "Not unless you want to be as cold as you were in your flat, which rather defeats the purpose of you staying here. John used a space heater when he lived here, but he took it when he moved out."

"Oh."

He looked at her questioningly. "Is that a problem? We've slept in the same bed before. And body heat is one of the best ways to stay warm."

Molly chuckled. "It's fine Sherlock." She moved to the fire, settling down in front of it before leaning forward and spreading out her hands to warm them.

He watched her for a moment before hurrying down the hall. "Tea?" he asked when he came back into the room.

"Yes please." She had already tugged off her mittens and scarf, and her coat was unbuttoned. Toby was curled up at her feet, fast asleep. "Thank you," she said to Sherlock as he handed her a cup.

He sat himself down beside her, taking a sip from his own cup of tea. "Getting warmer?"

"Yes, thank goodness." She took a few more sips of her tea before looking at him. "You're not going to your parents for Christmas?"

He gave a slight grimace. "No. That's not actually a very common occurrence. Besides the fact that they are in Bora Bora right now."

Her eyes got a far off look in them. "Bora Bora. That sounds nice. I think I'm going to do that next year, go somewhere warm for Christmas."

"I've heard that Tahiti is nice."

Molly blinked and returned her focus to him. "Oh I've always wanted to go there, stay in one of those little bungalows. Couldn't possibly ever afford it though." She took a sip of her tea.

"I could take you."

She nearly choked. "Wha-what?" she spluttered.

"I could take you," he repeated.

She took another sip and swallowed before saying, "Why would you do that?"

"Because I want to."

She put down her cup before turning so that she was facing him more fully. "Sherlock, what is this?" she asked, gesturing between them. "You ask me to come stay at your flat, and now you're offering to take me on an expensive holiday? Why?"

He put down his cup, not looking at her. "Isn't that what friends do?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Not exactly. Would you ever do that for John?"

He snorted.

"Sherlock?"

He sighed. "Fine. I - I consider you as more than just a friend Molly."

"What do you consider me as?"

He swallowed. "My pathologist."

She moved a bit closer to him. "Just your pathologist?"

"No-oo." He still didn't look at her.

Molly was practically up against him now. "What am I to you Sherlock?"

He raised his head, and their gaze locked. "Everything."

She launched herself at him, their mouths meeting, teeth clacking as they kissed each other hungrily. He pulled her onto his lap, slipping his hands beneath her coat and tugging up her jumper so that his fingertips could brush against the skin of her torso. She shivered, moaning slightly into his mouth as her hips rocked against his.

"What was it that you said about body heat?" she asked him breathlessly.

"It's one of the best ways to stay warm," he reiterated.

She smiled cheekily. "Good. Because I am positively freezing!"

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